


Better Than Wine

by Rennakins



Series: Imperishable [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Porn With Plot, Sex Work, Vampire Sex, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:35:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25802986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rennakins/pseuds/Rennakins
Summary: Prequel to Imperishable:Miri takes pity on the young man, reaching for his hand as she stands from the table. “What do you say we discuss price from the comfort of my private quarters?” she suggests. That at least seems to calm him down considerably. He flashes a small smile at her and oh, she knows he could melt hearts with a little more confidence.When she extends her hand, he offers his own to help her from her seat. His hand is cold in hers, but she’s sure that will change as they head up the stairs to her room.
Series: Imperishable [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1872025
Kudos: 4





	Better Than Wine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [McFif](https://archiveofourown.org/users/McFif/gifts).



It’s safe to say that it hasn’t been the best night for Miri so far.

Glancing around the bar, she knows that none of the other girls have had much luck today either; business is a little slow, and less people drinking means there are less opportunities to find someone willing to spend their money on her company. The men that sit at the tables tonight are either in a sour mood, drinking by themselves, or seem to find enough enjoyment grabbing her ass as she walks by, or trying to slip a hand under her skirts when she sits beside them, but never enough interest to follow her up to her room.

It’s nights like these where Miri longs for home, wishing she could go back to her mother’s, to help care for the little ones if she isn’t going to have any success here. But she stays, on the off chance that maybe a customer will walk in and request her. Money will do far better for her family than anything else at this hour anyway, when they are undoubtedly asleep by now. All she needs is one decent client and she can get some sleep, be up early enough to make breakfast for everyone.

She just isn’t expecting her idle thoughts to become a reality.

When the door opens, she turns instinctively, hoping one of her regulars has stepped in. Instead, Miri sees a young man, unfamiliar, a stranger in town – and strikingly handsome at that. Hardly into his twenties, if she would wager a guess, with dark eyes and loose curls. He looks out of place with a large bag at his side – ran away from home maybe, she thinks – as he lingers just in the doorway, scanning the room as if he’s looking for something.

Their eyes meet, and she offers him a smile. He seems a little startled as he looks away quickly, and Miri wonders if she scared the poor man, but he wanders towards her anyhow. She’s usually very good at deciding what type of act to put on for her customers to entice them into her bed, but there’s something strange about this newcomer that she can’t quite pin down. When he draws near, Miri pats the seat next to her, pleased when he sits at her table.

“Good evening, sir,” she says sweetly. When in doubt, a submissive demeanor works with most men. “Can I get you something to drink?”

He looks up at her, wide-eyed for a split second before he shakes his head. “I – no, thank you.”

“You’ve just come looking for some company then?” she asks. She places a gentle hand on his leg, thankful he doesn’t jump at her touch. Hopefully not a virgin, she thinks, just shy with women, unaccustomed to visiting prostitutes. A face like his, she’d be surprised if he had any difficulty finding a girl willing to lift her skirts for him. She can’t help but think that something must be wrong with him and she just hasn’t nailed the issue yet.

The man nods, reaches for his bag. “That… How much?”

She stops him before he can rifle through his belongings for money. Clearly he’s nervous. It’s almost endearing. Miri takes pity on the young man, reaching for his hand as she stands from the table. “What do you say we discuss price from the comfort of my private quarters?” she suggests. That at least seems to calm him down considerably. He flashes a small smile at her and oh, she knows he could melt hearts with a little more confidence.

When she extends her hand, he offers his own to help her from her seat. His hand is cold in hers, but she’s sure that will change as they head up the stairs to her room.

The door closes behind them and Miri settles into her element. Having him alone like this, it’s far easier to gauge his interest, particularly when he produces a sizable payment for the evening. His eyes don’t leave her frame as she moves away, seats herself on the edge of the bed, legs crossed. She notices the way he glances down at her legs peeking out from beneath her skirts. “How would you like me, sir?” she asks softly, letting her voice straddle the line between sultry and innocent.

“Please don’t call me that,” he replies. He’s still staring at her, but makes no move to cross the room.

“What would you like me to call you then?” Miri asks.

He toys with his fingers nervously. “You can call me Evžen.”

Miri smiles. “Okay, Evžen. You have me for the evening, here. What would you like to do?”

“I don’t know,” he says. “I… I think I’d like to touch you, if that’s okay.”

She raises her eyebrows, but otherwise doesn’t show her surprise at the request. Men don’t typically ask to please her. Most of her clients are focused on their own pleasure, save for a few that have some particular interests. Miri has to admit she feels lucky, having an attractive client who is interested in trying to please her. Despite her attempts to separate herself from her clients’ lives, she can’t help but wonder about this man. Is he trying to please a lover and he’s worried about his lack of experience, she thinks. “Of course you can touch me,” she says.

It’s only then that Evžen comes towards her, reaches out to touch her face, running his fingers down to her neck. She relaxes into his caress as he leans in to kiss her, soft, gentle, and Miri feels her cheeks heat up just a little. That’s different than the usually hurried advances of her other clients, if they bother to kiss her at all. As he continues to move his lips against hers, experimenting with pressure, placement, keeping it mostly chaste, she lets him push her slowly back until her head rests on the soft bed, knees bent along the edge of it, her feet dangling just above the floor. Her client brings a knee up beside her, carefully shifting his weight like he’s afraid the bed might not handle it.

“Is this okay?” he asks, his hand resting along the curve of her neck and collarbone.

Miri delicately wraps her fingers around Evžen’s to guide his hand lower, to the swell of her breast. He allows her the suggestion, his cheeks lightly flushed when their eyes meet. “More,” she says softly.

She normally isn’t so bold as to guide a client but he’s definitely nervous, she’s decided, and surprisingly it seems to spur him into a bit of action. He nods his head once, averting his gaze as he tugs her blouse down and runs a hand over her bare breast, squeezing at the soft flesh beneath his fingers in awe. His palm brushes over a nipple and Miri arches up into it, chasing the touch, trying to show him what she likes, to encourage more from him. And it works. Evžen leans over her and presses their lips together again as he gently rolls his fingers back over her nipple. He eagerly swallows down the gasp that follows.

At some point he finally climbed onto the bed, covering her body with his own, but never quite making much contact. Miri is painfully aware of the way her thighs are spread, one of his knees between them but too far for her to shift her body into getting pleasure from it. She can feel the heat pooling low in her body as he continues to kiss her lips, her chin, her neck, edging his way down to her breasts. But Evžen continuously rises back up to her mouth again. She wants to whine at the teasing pace he’s setting, hike her skirts and shove his face between her thighs, if he’s so interested in learning how to please a woman. Or she could reach into his pants, give him a few strokes to remind him what men come to her room for.

But there’s another part of her that just wants to lay back and let herself enjoy his attentions as they come. He’s paid up for the night and there’s no reason she shouldn’t let him try to bring her to orgasm on his own if he just wants to explore. She sighs as he runs a hand over her hip, so close, dragging bit by torturous bit of her skirts along with the movement. His tongue slides along her neck and she nearly whimpers.

“Does this feel good?” he asks. His hand has moved to her knee, beneath her skirts. Professional as she is, she inhales sharply just to keep from pushing her hips off the bed as those fingers slip slowly higher.

“Please,” she finds herself saying. Miri vaguely thinks to herself that there’s no way he’s a virgin after all, not with the way he’s teasing now, or he’d have already pushed inside her and come after a handful of thrusts. But she no longer cares what he’s doing here or why, only that his hand is on her thigh, and he finally finds the desperate wet heat of her. She can’t help the moan that escapes her lips as his fingers brush over her, or the way she shamelessly spreads her legs further to give him better access. “Keep going,” she begs, and she feels him smile where his lips are buried against her throat. He plays with pressure again as he rubs circles into her aching body, his fingers slick with her as he teases them along her entrance. She knows she’s making sounds, but she’s only aware of the slow drag of his middle finger as it finally, finally breaches her. And then–

Burning, searing pain at her throat. An arm thrown firmly across her chest, pinning her in place. His finger pushing in and out of her at a pace that makes her want to cry for more, harder. And then her throat again – the pain isn’t pain, not like how she’s ever experienced it. Like her heart is trying to break free of her body, like every point of contact is amplified. She’s chasing the best orgasm of her life, she thinks dimly. Another finger inside her, if he moved them a little faster, she could–

He shifts his position on her neck so minutely, yet it’s all Miri needs for her body to fly into a panic before her mind can catch up. With all her strength she pushes against the man’s seemingly iron grip on her. She’s dizzy and registers a horrible pain that comes with it, his protests – but she crawls up the bed, reaches under the pillow for the dagger she keeps there, and steadies it in front of her. She’s well aware she mustn’t look so terrifying with her breasts out, skirts thrown out of place, her hands shaking where she clutches the handle of the dagger, but she seems to paint enough of a serious picture for the man (man?) to back away, hands raised. Everything feels faded around the edges, a little like the room is tilting, but she can clearly see her blood on his lips and the look of shock and fear in his eyes. Why the fuck is he scared?

“I wasn’t going to hurt you,” he says, voice quivering.

Miri adjusts her grip on the dagger. The pain in her neck is a burning now. She can feel cool air on wet skin. “What the fuck are you.”

“I can’t–“ He turns to run.

“I’ll scream.”

He doesn’t run. He looks back at her, wide-eyed.

“You need to cover your wound,” he’s saying now, “you’ll bleed out.”

“I’ll scream and they’ll come up here and you won’t leave here alive. Tell me what you are.”

She doesn’t know if it’s the blood loss but she swears he looks like he’s about to cry. She can’t begin to imagine why. Miri is the one who was attacked – what did he do to her neck?

“I’m a–” he starts nervously, unsure of himself. She waits, waving the dagger a little in a gesture for him to get on with whatever he has to say. “I’m a… a vampire.”

Well, whatever Miri was expecting, it surely wasn’t that.

“Prove it,” she says. It feels stupid even as it leaves her mouth. He’s already proven it, hasn’t he? How else does a supposed vampire prove what he is? He takes an uncertain step towards her, but she shakes her head. “No, no. You’re close enough. Your teeth. Show me.”

She hears the hitch in his breath. Strange that the undead still breathe. Clearly trapped either way, Evžen reluctantly opens his mouth. With one thumb, he pulls on his upper lip just enough to reveal what is, sure enough, a glistening, bloody fang.

And somehow, for some reason that Miri doesn’t know if she’ll ever be able to explain, for a brief moment she feels a twinge of excitement return between her thighs.

“I swear I wasn’t going to kill you,” he’s saying now, babbling really. “I don’t kill people. But I need to feed, so I – I pay for a room for a night. I drink, I let the girl sleep, I leave. I swear, that’s all. It’s not supposed to hurt, well, it does a little, but I’ve been told it feels–”

“Good.” Miri finishes his sentence. She’s hardly aware the word left her mouth. The vampire’s eyes widen again too. She sees he doesn’t meet her eyes, ashamed, but his gaze keeps falling to her neck, to the blood dripping from the wound he made, soaking into her chemise. _Fuck._ She’d just spent good money on this one too.

“You have to stop the bleeding,” he continues. “Do you have bandages, or…” His eyes dart around the room, like he’s really looking for something to help. Oddly enough, she believes him. The panic in his voice, in his limited movements.

Nobody has ever accused Miri of being a smart girl. She keeps the dagger in one hand, moves the other to the side of her neck, feels the slick blood, the angry pulsing of her veins and arteries beneath the broken skin. She pulls back her fingers, examines them, looks back up… Evžen is still staring intently at her bloody fingers, back to her neck. He’s fallen silent, dropped off in the middle of his sentence.

“Bandages in the top drawer,” Miri says, gesturing with the dagger, and Evžen moves purposefully, gathering up the scant supplies Miri keeps in case she gets a rough customer. It wouldn’t be a first. When Evžen has collected her things, he pauses again, unsure if he should approach until Miri nods ever so slightly. Still he approaches with caution, sets the bandages beside her, backs up again.

Miri should immediately cover the wound, then scream anyway and have him taken away in chains, or maybe they’d lynch him on the spot just because of what he is. She’ll be fine, she’s sure of it. The bleeding is slowing down already, this vampire is just overreacting.

And isn’t that a funny thought? What a human response to panic.

She _should_ cover the wound.

“You said you need to feed?”

He nods.

“How often?”

He looks confused. “I – every two weeks or so. Why?”

Miri tilts her head subtly. It hurts, but it puts her neck on display. The hungry way he eyes her makes her heart pound hard in her chest, and she’s suddenly aware that her breasts are still bared to him, that she’s wet and desperate and he already almost brought her to the best orgasm of her life.

This could end very badly, or it could end favorably for both of them.

“You don’t like doing this, do you? Having to pay a whore, knocking her out to drink, moving to the next town, right?”

Miri expected him to look ashamed, but not nearly as much as he does standing before her. He sighs after a moment, says, “But if I don’t, then I die.”

“What if,” Miri begins, licking her lips, “we could come to an agreement?”

Evžen looks up, shocked. “What do you mean?”

“Drink from me. Every two weeks. You won’t have to attack people who don’t want it, you won’t have to skip town.”

“You…” he starts, hesitant, like he’s the one trying to make a deal with a demon. “What do you get out of this arrangement?”

Miri holds out her blood-soaked fingers towards him as she cautiously sets the dagger aside. With a gentle motion urging him closer, she presses the fingers to his lips. It’s like he can’t stop himself from taking them into his mouth, licking the blood away. She shivers, shifts her body to spread her legs further apart again. She takes one of his hands, leads it back up her skirts. “You could finish what you started?” she suggests with a coy smile.

Evžen smiles back, slowly, as he climbs back onto the bed. He seems like a completely different person now, more confident, as he buries his face in her shoulder, pressing kisses into the bloody skin, lapping it up as he moves back to the fresh wound, his fangs poised over the holes he’d made. His fingers too press against her entrance, waiting for her permission. She lets her fingers dance over the handle of the dagger as she breathes, “Yes,” and he sinks into her.

And when she comes, panting and moaning on three fingers as his tongue explores alongside them, she’s not afraid that the world around her goes dark.


End file.
